The One They Love Most
by clairenbearen
Summary: She called him dad.
1. Repairs

**_i_**. Skye sat at the table, spinning a water bottle cap, trying to make as little noise as possible in an effort not to wake Hannah.

She looked up as Coulson walked into the room. Gesturing to the open seat beside her, he asked, "May I?"

She nodded and scooted over in the booth to make room for him.

"It's been a hell of a few days, hasn't it?"

She smiled and said, "Yeah. Who would've thought –"

"– that I would shove my hand into an Asgardian man's chest and fish around for his heart?" Skye smiled tiredly at his smug face.

"No. Well, I mean – I don't know. I just wasn't expecting May to do what she did."

Coulson raised an eyebrow and looked at her. "You mean protect her team? She doesn't hate you, you know."

Skye shot him a skeptical look. "I knew she would be willing to protect us, just –"

"– just not by using Hannah for bait?"

"Correct."

"She only did that to protect us, Skye." The two sat in silence for a little while before Coulson piped up again. "Hey, Skye, what's May's favorite day of the week?"

Skye shot him a look and shook her head slightly before saying, "I don't know. What?"

"Flyday!" When he was met with an unamused glare, he felt the need to explain. "Get it? 'Cause May's a pilot?"

Skye held up a hand to prevent further explanation. "Yeah, I got it, Coulson. And to think I said you were cool…" At Coulson's pretend look of hurt and shock, she laughed out loud, covering her mouth to keep from waking Hannah.

It was the way he delivered the terrible pun and the emotion lying beneath his eyes as he told it to her that set her gears grinding. "You don't have a family, do you?"

Coulson, startled by the question, looked Skye directly in the eyes. "Excuse me?"

"I mean," she said, "the way you treat everyone on this Bus – it's like you've dealt with stuff like this before." Before Coulson could answer, she indulged her impulsive side and added, "But there's a certain loneliness underneath. Like you've always wanted this but could never have it."

Coulson looked down, tracing figure eights on the table. "No," he finally said. "No, I don't have a family. Not one of my own." He knew her. She wasn't going to push him for more. He licked his lips and continued. "You see, when I joined S.H.I.E.L.D., I chose not to have a family. That's what many agents do. That way, when the hard choice comes, at least the decision's a little bit simpler."

Skye reached out and laid a reassuring hand on Coulson's. She nodded once, but she was so tired after the events of the past few days. Sleep was dragging her eyes closed, and it became increasingly difficult for her to stay awake.

Coulson couldn't admit it to anyone, not even himself, but at that moment in time, he chose her. If only he could have been there for her, to choose her, just nine years earlier. This was a girl who had shown her loyalties to the people on this Bus, as well as her love for them ( _yes_ , he said to himself, _even May_ ). She wore her heart on her sleeve, but there was so much more to her than that. A light burned brightly, beckoning people to come to her, and that light was warm. What he wanted was to protect that light before it had any opportunity to grow dim.

"You tired?" He already knew the answer, so he was not surprised when she leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Hey, Dad?"

 _Dad_. She called him dad.

His parents had both told him about the love a parent had for their child, and every superior officer at S.H.I.E.L.D. had said something similar: _It was impossible to know the love of a parent without actually being one_.

Well, now he begged to differ.

His voice was soft as he answered. "Yeah, Skye?"

"Do you really think I'm going to be the best at that index thing?"

"I know you are going to be the best at it."


	2. TRACKS

**_i_**. She was alive.

It had only resulted in two men's deaths.

But she was alive.

He sat beside her bed, not knowing what to do, not knowing how to physically reach out and show her how much she meant to him.

So he just sat.

There were a thousand unknown variables that could present themselves at any moment, but she was alive, and that was that. He was too scared of what could happen to take this at anything other than minute by minute.

It had been 20,160 minutes. During that time, Coulson left May in charge as he sat by Skye, praying to a God he didn't even believe in to please just let his little girl wake up.

Coulson was just glad that he hadn't lost her.

Skye stretched and opened her eyes.

Through her hazy vision, she could only make out one figure next to her bed.

"How long was I out?" She was surprised by how thick and heavy her tongue felt. She tried to swallow, but her tongue felt like sandpaper. The figure next to her bed reached for something. She shut her eyes tightly and rubbed them with her index fingers. When she opened them again, her eyesight was far clearer. Skye was relieved to find Coulson sitting by her side. He was offering her a water bottle.

As she took it and mumbled a "thanks," Coulson decided to answer her question.

"Two weeks." Skye didn't know what she was expecting to hear, but it certainly wasn't that.

Coulson reached out and gently squeezed her shoulder. "You're still pretty heavily drugged up, but you're safe and alive. That's what's important."

She may not have been at her peak performance, but she could tell he was keeping something from her.

She stretched again and looked him in the eyes. Or rather, she tried to look him in the eyes. He was avoiding eye contact, playing with his watch. "What is it?"

Skye had never seen Coulson cry, but she could tell he was trying to keep himself from doing so now.

His voice was shaky as he quickly told her how the doctors had tried to do everything they could, but they said there was no way of saving her. His bottom lip trembled as he told her that he had looked for any way that Fitzsimmons could pull of the impossible. His eyes were filled to the brim with tears as he explained the lengths he went through to get Skye the drug that had ended up saving her life.

She wanted to comfort him, but she was falling asleep due to the effects of the drugs swimming around in her body.

"Thanks for all you've done, Dad," she said as her eyes closed again.

Coulson smiled to himself as his eyes filled with tears for a million different reasons. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Of course, sweetheart."


	3. What They Become

_This one has been my favorite to write. I love writing from scenes and expanding on them, and this one is one of my favorites. SLYNNR, this one's for you. :)_

X-X-X-X-X

 ** _iii_**. She slipped.

Here she was, watching her biological father beat her other father figure into a pile of bones. And for what? Simply because Coulson had neutralized a threat to the rest of the team? The whole situation angered her so deeply that tears jumped into her eyes.

Coulson was flat on his back, blood pouring down his face as Cal continued to open new wounds.

"Stop it!" She could hear the tears in her voice that she was trying to suppress, and she knew that Coulson had heard them, too.

More punches. Coulson wasn't fighting back, whether it was because he didn't have the energy or he didn't have the heart, she didn't know.

"Stop it, or I'll shoot!"

Coulson was near dead. Fury had brought him back from death once. He couldn't move heaven and earth again, and for a number of reasons. Coulson was dying as he too each and every punch from Skye's biological father.

If he would _just fight back_ …

She drew in a shaky breath and made up her mind.

She was not going to lose him again.

Cal hit Coulson again, this time much harder than before. She saw it. She saw the weakness in Coulson, the way that no matter what happened next, he was not going to be able to put up a fight.

And she slipped.

"Dad!"

The name intended for Coulson, the desperation in her voice directed to Coulson, had been misinterpreted by her biological father.

As he lifted his head, a new surge of hatred for this man coursed through her veins. He was not her father. He didn't love her the way most fathers would. He protected her in ways most fathers would never try. He beat the one man she cared for above anything else in this world. She did not love him. She could not love him.

As if she would call him _dad_.

The only good that came of this misinterpretation, the only thing she wanted to happen, was that Cal had stopped hurting Coulson. Coulson let out a breath of relief.

Cal's reasoning for what he had done to Coulson was childish.

She couldn't stop herself from shaking.

She couldn't stop herself from crying.

And in defiance to the angel on her shoulder, she pushed Cal away and knelt by her father.


End file.
